


Coach

by grey853



Series: Coach [1]
Category: Queer As Folk - US, the Early Years
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Slash, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-17 11:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/grey853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian has his first sexual experience with his coach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coach

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: UNDERAGE SEX. Explicit sex between a minor and an  
> adult occurs in Brian's account of his first time at the age of  
> fourteen with his PE teacher. If that bothers you, don't read  
> this. There is no explicit sex between Brian and Michael.

**Coach**  
by Grey  
[Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Coach)

* * *

"Come on, Mikey, it's not that bad." 

"It is so. If I fail this test, I'm going to fail for the whole six weeks. My mom's going to fucking kill me." Michael ran his hand through his thick hair and sagged back against the locker. 

"Deb's not going to kill you and you're not going to fail the test." 

"I am. I can't remember all those dates and Mrs. Sweeney always gives us those trick questions." 

Brian smiled as he shook his head, his hand squeezing Michael's shoulder before stroking the back of his neck. "They're called true and false questions." 

"Whatever. I just know I'm going to fail." 

"But we went over all of it last night." 

"I know we did, but you know how I am on tests. The paper just sits there staring at me, daring me to remember shit." Closing his eyes, Michael bowed his head in despair. "I'm am so fucked." 

Brian smacked the back of Michael's head. "You're not fucked, asshole. I've got the test first period. I'll give you the answers so you can use them third." 

"I can't do that." 

"Why not?" 

"That's cheating." 

"So?" 

Michael looked up, his face glum, but suddenly more hopeful. "What if she gives a different test?" 

"She won't. She never does." 

"You'd do that?" 

"Sure. You're my friend. Friends help each other. You'd help me, right?" 

"Of course I would, but you never need help." 

Brian shrugged and turned his attention away from the adoring brown eyes of his friend. Busy students hustled to homeroom, the start of the school day just a few minutes away. "You never know. It could happen." 

"Like when?" 

"Fuck, Mikey. I don't know. Like whenever it happens." Brian stared at his friend, his agitation quickly dispelled by the hurt on Michael's face. "Look, just meet me here after first and I'll give you all you need." 

Nodding, Michael turned to open his locker. He dialed the combination and frowned as he changed the subject. "I dread gym today, too." 

"You always dread gym. Who the fuck doesn't?" 

"You." 

"Yeah, well, at least we're not sitting in a fucking desk for an hour." 

"But Coach Daniels is crazy. He actually expects me to climb that fucking rope to the top of the gym before the end of the semester. There's no way in hell I can do that." 

"Sure you will." 

"No, I won't. You know how I am with heights." 

"I'll hold the rope. You'll do fine." 

"What if I fall?" 

"You won't." 

"But..." 

Brian shook his head and leaned in, his voice a forceful whisper. "Shut the fuck up, Mikey. You're not going to fucking fall and if you do, I'll catch you." 

* * *

"Novotny, get your ass moving. You're a lap behind." 

Michael groaned and pushed a little harder as Brian pulled up beside him, his easy movements around the edges of the court graceful and inspiring. "Hey, Mikey, follow me." 

Racing in front a few paces, Brian managed to stay just ahead of Michael, his face shiny with sweat and his breathing only slightly labored. Running suited him, made his long legs ache with a delicious tightness. Continuing the run around the gym, Brian noted the coach watching him, the blue eyes focused intently not on the other students, but on him. He smiled and kept going, the secret knowledge of the older man's interest a rush to his system. 

Slowing slightly, he let Michael catch up. "Hey, you okay?" 

"I'm dying." The words came out between short gasps. 

"You're not fucking dying. Only two more laps." 

"I can't make it." 

"You can. You can't let that lardass Becker beat you. Step up the pace and check out my ass. You'll be finished in no time." 

Running ahead again, Brian noted the renewed effort as his friend fought to avoid being last, the loser always being the brunt of brutal comments. When his last lap finished, he continued running with Michael. By the last corner of the lap, he cheered his friend on. "Come on, Mikey. You can do it. Almost there." 

By the time the coach checked Michael off, the others already headed towards Becker to toss out taunts and jeers as the overweight boy still struggled to finish. Brian slapped his friend on the back and turned toward the showers. 

"Wait up, Kinney." 

Brian turned at the voice of his teacher as he motioned for Michael to go on to the dressing room. "Yeah, Coach?" 

"You can't count?" 

"I can count." 

"Then why run the extra lap?" The older man stood there, his strong handsome face and blue eyes unwavering as he waited for an answer. 

"I had an extra slice of pizza last night." 

"Pizza?" 

"Yeah. I thought I'd run off the extra calories." 

The coach grinned and shook his head. "You're skinny, Kinney. I don't think you have to worry about running off calories." 

Smirking, Brian motioned his head toward Coach Monty across the room. A pot belly hung over the elastic waist of the gym shorts as the middle-aged teacher blew his whistle for the other team of boys to form a circle. "Well, some of us care about what we look like." 

"That's rude, Kinney." 

"It's the truth, sir." 

"Well, you don't always have to tell every truth you know, son." 

"Really? I'll have to remember that." 

Intent eyes stared back at him, the older man's voice deep and resonant even in the open space of the gym. "Yeah, Kinney, you do that. Now hit the showers." 

"Yes, sir." 

Heading through the door, Brian smiled to himself, knowing full well his favorite part of gym waited right around the corner. Naked asses and cocks swinging always made his otherwise boring day a pleasure. 

* * *

"Hey, Novotny, you like what you see?" Stunned, Michael swallowed hard and shook his head as he gripped his thin white towel a little tighter in front of himself. 

"Then keep your fucking eyes to yourself, faggot." 

"Fuck off, Danzinger." 

"I wasn't talking to you, Kinney." 

Brian moved in front of the other student, his face shoved into the larger boy's face. "You talk to Michael, you talk to me." 

"Is that so?" 

"That's so. You got a problem with him, you've got a problem with me. Is that fucking clear?" 

The face off lasted only a few seconds, but Danzinger blinked first and then turned away. "Fuck you, Kinney." 

"You wish, asshole." 

A hand touched his shoulder as a worried voice caught his ear. "Don't push it, Brian. He's not worth it." 

"Mother fucker." Brian stripped off his clothes, his body flushed with anger. "He pulls this shit all the time. One of these days I'm going to have to whip his ass." 

"He's bigger than you." 

"So? I can take care of myself." 

"I know, but still..." 

"Look, don't worry about it." Grabbing a white towel from the pile by the shower, he snapped over his shoulder, "Get dressed. I want to get out of here as soon as the bell rings." 

"Sure." Michael dressed awkwardly, his body still shaking from the encounter. 

Entering the communal shower, Brian stepped to the open nozzle in the corner, the other boys in various stages of cleansing. He carefully soaped up, closing his eyes to slits, the hot water spraying his body. Watching the others fondle their own cocks and balls, washing themselves so shyly made him hard, his hand down over his erection as he turned back towards the wall, skillful at concealing his condition. A pantomime of washing hid a jerk off session quite nicely. A slippery hand stroked his cock, the heat flaring up his spine, his cheeks clenched as he imagined pumping into a tight ass, any ass, it didn't matter. He came quickly, the spunk camouflaged by the suds, flushed down the drain with all the sweat and grime from running. Smug and more relaxed, he rinsed off and hurried back out to find Michael already dressed and combing his thick, black hair. 

"So, how'd you do on the history test?" Brian dried off and reached for his briefs. 

"I think I did okay. I was really nervous though." 

"Nervous?" 

"I was afraid she'd catch me cheating." 

"It wasn't really cheating, just a little creative prompting." Brian pulled on his shirt and ran a lazy hand through his straight brown hair. 

"Well, if she'd caught me being creative, my ass would be finished. If my mom ever found out..." 

"But she's not going to find out, so just shut the fuck up about it. You worry too damn much." 

"I'm sorry." 

Mussing Michael's hair with affection, Brian smiled. "Hey, speaking of your mom, is she working this afternoon?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

Brian sat down on the bench beside Michael as he pulled on his socks and shoes. "I just thought we could go to your place and have a little fun." 

Suspicious, Michael frowned. "What kind of fun?" 

Leaning forward, Brian pulled out his gym bag from the bottom of the locker. He looked around first and then unzipped it just enough to flash the whiskey bottle hiding under his dirty gym clothes. "We need to celebrate your success in history, right?" 

"Fuck. You could get suspended for bringing that to school." 

"So?" 

"So, you know what happened last time. Your dad went ballistic." 

Brian glanced away, his muscles suddenly tight, his jaw clenched at the mention of his father. He blocked out the memory, the blows of recall as hurtful as the bruises themselves. "I'm not drinking it here. I thought we could go to your place, but if you're chicken..." 

"I'm not chicken. I just don't want you to get into trouble." 

"Then let's get the fuck out of here." As soon as the tone sounded, Brian zipped up his bag and picked it up. "Come on, Mikey. I'm thirsty." 

"You need to be more careful." 

"Careful's boring." 

Heading out the door, they merged with the crowd heading out to go home. They walked side by side on the way to Michael's place, the other students no longer around to overhear. Michael nudged his friend. "Hey, did you hear that Mrs. Danvers is pregnant?" 

"Eww. Who the fuck would want to fuck her?" 

"Mr. Danvers probably." 

Brian shook his head. "Must be blind." 

"Maybe, but I heard that she was going to quit at the end of the semester. I guess that means we'll get a new math teacher." 

"Who the fuck cares? Teachers all suck." 

"I don't know. I kind of like Mr. Astin." 

"That's only because he's cute." 

"That's not true. Coach Daniels is cute and I don't like him." 

Glancing sideways, not losing step, Brian noted the sincerity of the words. "You think Coach Daniels is cute?" 

"Yeah, in a blond butch sort of way." 

"Well, yeah, compared to Astin, who's cute in a blond wuss sort of way." 

"Astin's not a wuss. He's nice. He gave me extra time to finish my biology paper when my Uncle Vic got sick." 

Brian reached over and squeezed the back of Michael's neck. "Come on, Mikey, it's okay. You've got a crush on Astin, admit it." 

"I do not." 

"Do, too. It's sweet." Teasing, he leaned in and kissed his temple. "Mikey and Astin sitting in a tree..." 

Pushing him away, Michael laughed. "Fuck off." 

Chuckling, Brian stopped abruptly. "Oh, fuck." 

"What?" 

The taller boy smacked Michael lightly in disapproval. "Why the fuck did you let me forget my jockstrap?" 

"Ow. Stop that." 

"Now, I have to walk all the way back." 

"Just get it tomorrow." 

"I can't. It stinks. I've got to wash it before tomorrow's class. Fuck." Brian shoved his gym bag at Michael. "Take that on over to your place. I'll be there as soon as I get it and walk back." 

"Maybe you can catch a ride with somebody." 

"Maybe. I'll see." As he headed back toward school, Brian called over his shoulder. "Don't you fucking dare start drinking before I get back." 

"I won't." Michael clutched the bag possessively to his chest, his own slung over his shoulder. "I'll fix us something to eat, too." 

"You're going to make someone a great wife someday." 

"Men cook, too." 

Brian laughed out loud at his friend's petulant objection as he hurried off to the gym. He muttered under his breath, "A great wife, Mikey, that's you." 

* * *

Brian hurried through the empty gym to the locker room, the vacant place eerie. He headed toward his number and stopped as he heard the sounds of the shower still going. Curious, he edged around the corner only to find Coach Daniels using both hands to shampoo his short-cropped hair as he hummed quietly to himself. Brian's cock twitched in his chinos, the blood rushing south as he scanned the older man's well-toned body, the muscular thighs, the wide shoulders. Swallowing hard, he stood transfixed as Daniels turned around and met his gaze. Surprised eyes narrowed, the older man stilled, but didn't look away or protest. 

His mind fuzzy, his gut hungry, Brian stepped forward. He kept his eyes on Daniels, ready to bolt at the first sign of rejection. The older man kept his hands on his head, his eyes on Brian, watching every movement. Kneeling on the wet surface, his pants already soaked and his face sprayed, Brian watched the coach's cock grow with arousal. 

Without a word between them, Brian tentatively touched the tip with his fingers, the soft moan a prize for his effort. Glancing up, he noted Daniels still watching him, but the blue eyes now darker, the pupils wider than he'd ever seen them. Bowing his head, Brian flicked his tongue to the tip, the slick tang a magic elixir. Using one hand to steady himself, he used the other to hold the cock, the coarse pubic hair brushing the edge of his palm. His tongue licked up the underside, the flesh soft, but the cock itself steel hard just below the skin. Slowly, he lapped all along the pulsing veins, the velvet heat calling, the musk tickling his nose. His belly tightened as he opened his mouth wider, the thickness more than he expected. 

Hands suddenly gripped the sides of his head as Daniels pumped deeper. He gagged at first, but then the older man slowed down, more careful. Eyes squeezed shut, Brian breathed in short spaces, his world blackened and dizzy. He wanted this, to suck cock, to know cock for the first time. Motion quickened as he bobbed his head, his mouth and tongue working harder to control the suction and rhythm. Daniels grunted and suddenly pushed as he held the back of his head in position, his hair yanked at the roots. Spasms jerked the older man's body and bitterness washed the back of Brian's throat. He choked as Daniels withdrew, coughing and gagging as the man let him fall to his hands and knees, free to finally breathe again. 

Daniels slipped down, sitting on his bare ass, his knees up. His eyes still dazed, the older man rasped, "What the fuck are you thinking, Kinney?" 

"Not much, sir." 

"Fuck." Daniels ran his hand nervously over the top of his head and then took a deep breath. He stood up and then reached down a hand. "Come on, kid. Let's get you the fuck out of here and into some dry clothes." 

Reluctantly, Brian accepted the tug to his feet. Standing, he followed the coach out and caught the towel thrown in his direction. The older man quickly dried off and wrapped a towel around his middle. Then he stepped to his office in the corner of the locker room. "In here, Kinney." 

Once through the door, Brian stood quietly while Daniels pulled on his pants and shirt. "Get undressed." 

"What?" 

Daniels pitched him a sweat suit. "You're soaking wet. Get undressed and put those on. I'll put your stuff in the dryer." 

"Dryer?" 

"There's one in the back of the equipment room." 

"Oh." 

Sitting on the edge of the desk, Daniels watched him quietly as he undressed. Slipping off his chinos, but stopping at his wet briefs. 

"It's okay, Kinney. Nothing I haven't seen before. Might as well dry it all." 

Self-conscious for the first time, Brian slipped off his underwear, his cock still half hard from his earlier arousal. Flushed, he pulled on the sweats as fast as he could. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Handing the pile of wet clothes to his coach, he picked up the sweat shirt. 

"I'll be back in a minute." 

As soon as the older man left, Brian shut his eyes and sagged down on the couch in the corner. He thought of Michael waiting for him, his young friend all anxious and worried whenever he showed up late. "Fuck. Mikey's never going to believe this." 

A slow panic revved up his gut as he eyed the phone. One call wouldn't hurt. He stood up, but before he could reach it, Daniels appeared in the doorway. "Parents expecting you home?" 

"No. I'm supposed to be at a friend's house." 

"Novotny?" 

"Yeah." 

"Figures." Stepping into the office, Daniels closed the door and clicked the lock. He directed Brian back to the low couch and then sat on the edge of the desk, one foot still on the floor. "You want to tell me why you did that?" 

"You want to tell me why you let me?" 

"Have you ever done anything like that before?" 

"Have you?" 

Flustered, Daniels tried again, his voice more forceful. "Did you like it?" 

"Did you?" 

"Damn it, Kinney, stop fucking around." 

"What? You get off and now you want to play counselor?" The anger swelled up, the words hot and bitter. "All of a sudden it's what's a boy like me doing down on his knees sucking cock?" 

"It's not like that." 

"No? Then what's it like? Don't bullshit me and tell me you give a fuck." 

"Oddly enough, I do." 

"Oddly enough, I don't believe you." 

"No, you wouldn't." Daniels sighed and stood up, walking behind his desk to sit, his shoulders suddenly slumped. He leaned forward, his hands together on the desk. He'd aged ten years in just a few minutes. "Look, what happened, shouldn't have happened." 

"But it did, Coach." Brian got up and moved to the desk, his body still tense, his cock still awake and begging for attention. "It's no big deal. I won't tell anybody. I'm good at keeping secrets." 

"Secrets? What kind of secrets?" 

Brian smirked. "If I told you, they wouldn't be secrets." 

Concerned, his face grim, Daniels shook his head. "I'm really sorry, Brian." 

"What for?" 

"For letting this happen." 

"Don't worry about it. It's cool. I liked it." 

"How long have you known you were gay?" 

Suddenly wary, Brian crossed his arms and walked to the wall, leaning back with one leg up. "What difference does it make?" 

"I just want to help. High school can be tough enough." 

"Yeah, tell me about it. You let those mother fuckers like Danzinger and Frost get away with shit all the time." 

"They're just being guys." 

"Bullshit. They're homophobic jerks. It's your job to make sure people don't get fucked over." 

"People like Novotny?" 

"Leave him out of this." 

Daniels met his angry gaze. "Is he your boyfriend?" 

"He's my friend. I don't like when he gets messed with." 

"You two ever fucked?" 

Angry, Brian leaned forward, his arms braced on the desk, his words bullets. "That's none of your fucking business." 

"Calm down, son. I was just asking." 

"I'm not your fucking son, so don't keep calling me that." 

Daniels stood up, his size towering, and Brian backed away, afraid for the first time. "It's okay, Brian. I'm just going to get the clothes. They should be about dry by now." 

Relieved, Brian played it off. "I knew that." 

"Wait here. I'll be back in a minute." 

Pacing the small office, Brian shook his head and closed his eyes, wondering how in the hell he'd explain all this to Michael. After a few moments, Daniels returned and handed him the folded clothes. "Put these on and then you should probably go." 

"Yeah, I guess I should." 

Standing there, Brian palmed his hand over the warm soft fabric of his pants. "Brian?" 

Glancing up, Brian met the older man's concerned eyes. "Yeah?" 

"If you ever need to talk, well, my door's always open, okay?" 

"Sure. Whatever." Brian waited for Daniels to leave before he quickly took off the sweats and got dressed to go home to Michael, his cock no longer swollen and the thrill of conquest faded. 

* * *

"You should eat something." 

Brian sat back against the headboard, one leg up, and took another long drink. Cheap whiskey burned his throat, the hot rush like soft kisses all along his belly. It softened the world and made everything so much easier. "I'm not hungry." 

"You're going to get drunk." 

"Too late." 

"Fuck. My mom's going to get pissed if she finds you like this again. I got grounded last time." 

"But you're not drinking." 

"Am, too." To make his point, Michael took the bottle from his hands and took a short sip. "See?" 

"You're going to get plastered chugging it like that." 

Michael frowned and put the bottle on the bedside table. He shifted and snuggled in next to Brian, his body warm and comforting. "You didn't tell me what happened." 

"Nothing happened." 

"You're such a big fat liar. You didn't even get your jockstrap." 

"Someone stole it." Brian shut his eyes and floated, the liquor easing any and all aches. He jerked back startled as a finger traced his bottom lip. "What the fuck are you doing?" 

"Your lips are all swollen." Michael leaned in, his voice a hush. "Come on. Tell me what happened. I won't tell anybody." 

"Promise?" 

"Cross my heart." 

Sighing, Brian closed his eyes again, the taste of warm cock fresh in his mind, his world suddenly drowsy. "I sucked off Coach Daniels." 

"No fuck?" 

"No fuck." 

An open hand swatted his chest. "Don't fall asleep, you shit. Tell me what happened. Did he hurt you?" 

"Ow." Frowning, Brian sat up and met anxious brown eyes. He cupped Michael's face, the new whiskers soft against his palm. "No, Mikey, he didn't hurt me. I sucked him." 

"But he let you?" 

"Yeah." Relaxing back into the pillows, Brian smiled. "I think I fucked with more than his cock." 

"Why do you say that?" 

"Because he acted all weird afterwards, like he was really nervous." 

Michael stood up and paced his room, angry. "Well, fuck, he should be. He's a grown man for christsakes." 

"What's the big deal? He didn't make me do anything I didn't want. I liked it." 

Easing himself down on the foot of the bed, Michael studied him closely, checking for the truth of the words. "Really?" 

"Really. In fact, I can't wait to become a champion cocksucker." 

Michael snorted. "I don't think they give championships for cocksucking." 

"But if they did, I've got the coach already lined up." 

"Fuck. I can't believe you did that. You sucked him off right there in the gym?" 

"In the shower, actually." 

Before Michael could ask anything else, both boys jumped as the door swung open. "Evening, boys." Debbie Novotny smiled broadly and took in the scene, her grin fading quickly as she eyed the open bottle on the nightstand. She picked it up with two fingers and sighed. "Well, what have you two been up to as if I can't already guess?" 

"It's not what you think, Ma." 

"I'm sorry, Deb. It's my fault. Michael was just helping me celebrate." 

"Celebrate what?" 

Brian gazed over at Michael and smiled. "I got an A on my history test." 

Not convinced, Debbie looked over at her son. "And you? What'd you get?" 

"I think I got an A, too." 

Smiling in spite of herself, she stepped up to Michael and pinched his cheek. "I knew you could do it, sweetie. You just had to apply yourself more, that's all." Remembering the bottle in her hand, she scowled again. "But that's no excuse for drinking." 

"I'm sorry, Ma. It was just a hard test, so we thought we'd celebrate a little." 

"That's what hot fudge sundaes are for, sweetheart. You're only fourteen for christsakes." She flashed her eyes at Brian and pointed a finger. "I want you to go home, young man. And no more booze, understand?" 

"Absolutely." Brian stumbled off the bed, Michael reaching out quickly to steady him before he fell back down again, the whole world spinning. 

Debbie sighed. "Hold on, sunshine. I'll get the car. I can't let you walk home like that." 

"I'm okay." 

"Sure you are, hon. I just want to make sure you're all in one piece by the time you get there. Let me get my coat." She turned to Michael. "Get him downstairs so we can take him home. We'll talk more about this when we get back." 

"Sure, Ma." 

As soon as she left, Brian shook his head to clear his vision. "Your mom sure is tough." 

"She loves me." 

"Lucky you." 

Michael's grip tightened as they staggered toward the door. Brian halted and kissed his temple quickly. 

"What was that for?" 

"Just felt like it." 

Frowning, Michael shook his head. "You can't always do what you feel like." 

"Why not?" 

"Because you can't, that's why." 

"Fuck, Mikey. Join the debate team. You'll knock'em dead with that line." 

"Fuck you. One of these days you're going to end up in serious trouble." 

Walking down the stairs, Brian stood straighter and laughed, the world so much bigger than it had been. "Trouble is just another name for having a good time." 

"I'm just saying you need to be careful." 

Shaking his head, Brian sighed as he picked up his bag and headed outside. He patted Michael's face and laughed, his heart suddenly wild and happy. "Fuck, Mikey, with you around, I don't have to bother." 

* * *

The end


End file.
